Intertwined
by alskfjawoieurlskjf
Summary: When Princess Kiran finds out she has to marry a prince she doesn't know, she ventures to a gypy's camp. Little does she know that her problems wont get solved there - if nothing else, they'll get worse.
1. Prince Evan And My Engagement Ring

_**Pronunciation: **_

_**Brunee Bru-nay**_

_**Elsfaen Els-fay-en **_

Chapter One

"Ah, so it is settled," Mother declares, sitting back in her chair and looking rather pleased with herself. "The kingdom of Elsfaenshall giveyou Princess Kiran's hand in marriage for five gallons of gold, seven gallons of silver, three dozen horses, and four dozen oxes."

I felt the temperature rise in my face. My own father and mother were trading _me_ for things we already _have_?

"And in return," counters King Richard of Brunee, "we will gain six gallons of precious gems, two dozen mules, and a peace truce between our countries." He looks at me in a sympathetic manner. "And a most lovely and beautiful daughter-in-law."

King Niall, my father, laughs loudly. "Did you ever imagine our countries would join together? By uniting Princess Kiran and Prince Evan, of all things!"

Queen Evren, my mother, the beast herself, shoots King Niall a look. "Then this matter is settled. Shall you depart to Brunee soon, King Richard, Queen Cordelia?"

Queen Cordelia jerks at her name and looks up. I suspect she was sleeping up until that point, and the little glistening trail of drool confirms it. My mother has obviously seen it, too, but doesn't bring it up. After all, Elsfaen and Brunee are soon to be united and peaceful.

"Evren," King Richard says, but it's more like a bellow. "We shall leave in two week's time, then come back a week later for the wedding." I cringe when I hear _wedding_. "Prince Evan will join us tomorrow." He breaks into a yawn. "Now, it's getting quite late. Let's retire to our bedchambers, hm?" King Richard guffaws, then strides from the dining room with Queen Cordelia on his arm and a trail of Brunee's dukes trailing behind.

"What atrocious manners," Mother announces, folding her napkin up neatly and depositing it on her empty plate. Tonight we'd had lobsters, a specialty of Elsfaen, as we live by the sea. My own is now cold, and I've taken only a bite. "Not even a goodnight, or farewell."

Father smiles. "Kiran will have to teach that prince some table manners, now wont she?"

I glare at him. How can he joke when he's just settled my future?

I couldn't even imagine myself as a wife. As being tied down, tamed, and mannerly. My chair made a loud squeak as I pushed it back and jumped up.

"I wont marry that Prince Evan," I say. "And I will not be a wife. I will not." I throw my fork down—it makes a nice, loud clattering noise as it hits my drinking glass and plate, and rush from the room.

Now, in a typical book perhaps the princess has many friends. Perhaps the princess is nice and adoring to everyone, and therefore everyone likes her. I am not that princess. So instead of fleeing to the stables or kitchen, I have only my empty bedchamber.

I slam the door for emphasis, should Mother be able to hear, then bury myself underneath the covers. The collar of my dress, one of my best frocks, tickles my collarbone.

I perch myself up on my elbow and light a candle. Fumbling, I touch my index finger to the flame—then pulling back sharply when it starts to feed. I blow it out, then crawl back into bed, my singed finger a reminder that this—from the wedding plans to the things they were trading for me—was real.

* * *

"Hold still, please, your Highness," Madam Purcell mutters through clenched teeth as she jabs me with a needle again.

"DAMN," I yell. "Lighter fingers, Madam Purcell."

"Watch the tone, Princess," She warns.

"What did you just say to me?" I whirl around, until we're face to face. "Excuse me, Madam Purcell!?" She is a gigantic woman with hammy hips and a generous bottom.

"Ah, nothing. You have such a fair waist," Madam Purcell hastens to say. "A neat, wasp-thin sixteen."

I glare and turn back around. This is not just any fitting. It's for my wedding gown—"A lovely, layered white dress with the most darling fringes," Madam Purcell had described it.

A maid appears in the doorway. She is rather small, with a cap of mahogany hair and narrow, hazel eyes. "Madam Purcell? Queen Evren has demanded to see Princess Kiran. As soon as possible, in the dining room." She flinches when I glare at her, then hurries away, as if afraid I would pounce.

I rise and exit the room, cursing myself. Had Prince Evan arrived already? It was barely noon!

Mother was, indeed, waiting for me. She's seated at her usual chair at the head of the table.

"Kiran," Mother acknowledges. "I have great news. Prince Evan has arrived earlier, and we plan on dining with the royal family of Brunee again. He has come with a younger sister, and I trust you three will bloom into a triangle of friendship." She beams.

A triangle of friendship? Now, how corny is _that_?

"Now, for the wedding. It's scheduled in exactly three weeks." Mother runs a hand through her short, shoulder-length black hair.

"I'm only fifteen, Mother. I'd like to see the world before I wed," I plead, knowing that her mind is already made. The thought of the gold and silver she'd have after I get married off is backing her up.

"Nonsense! All suitable girls are wed by fifteen," she snaps.

I have her face—every time I look in a mirror, I am struck by how alike we look. We have the same features: black hair, full, red lips, a pert nose, and long eyelashes, but somehow they don't fit together as beautiful as they do on her. The two things I'd inherited from my father were my dark dashes for eyebrows and the color of my wide, frightened doe-eyes: a deep green that could be mistaken for gray some days.

I flick my wavy, chest-length hair from my face. I've inherited my attitude from my mother, also—petty, cynical, and vain.

"Evan sounds absolutely horrible," I say.

"You've never met the young man!"

"How old is he?"

"Nineteen, I believe."

"That's four years older than me!"

"Does it matter?" She fumbles with a napkin.

"To me, it does. Maybe it should to you, too. I _am_ your only daughter, after all."

She looks as if she's been slapped. "You're dismissed, Kiran."

I don't budge and she levels me with a glare. "KIRAN. Leave, this instant."

"I wont marry Evan," I say, then turn on my heel.

* * *

The seconds tick by while I wait for Prince Evan to show. Madam Purcell had, with quite an effort, sewn fresh, tiny, gorgeous white flowers into the hem of my turquoise-and-green frock. Then she'd clipped my hair up, carefully letting a couple wavy strands hang around my face, and managed to wedge some violets into the clip. I had some kohl rubbed on my eyelids, and a healthy, pink flush on my cheeks—courtesy of Madam Purcell's makeup case.

Father, Mother, Madam Purcell, and I stood side by side, in front of the dining table.

"Marvelous job you've done with Kiran," Mother mutters to Madam Purcell. Madam Purcell beams, then pinches my waist, telling me to stop slouching. I rub my hip and bare my teeth at her. She looks rather taken aback and I turn back to watching the entrance.

King Richard enters first, Queen Cordelia hanging from his arm. The prince is behind the king, and next to him pranced a girl of perhaps nine or ten. Father gestures to where they should sit—across from us. I take my seat next to Mother and notice that she has conveniently put me across from the prince.

King Richard and my father instantly start talking about the threats of war from Trewin, while Mother and Cordelia listen in and occasionally laugh quietly. I frown and stab at my salad with my fork.

"Good evening, Princess Kiran," Prince Evan greets me formally. He doesn't look or sound too happy to be here.

"I trust your journey to Elsfaen was good?" I inquire.

"Of course. Elsfaen is certainly a beautiful country," he answers politely.

I want to kill my mother. Is this how I'm going to live the rest of my life—having small, polite, meaningless conversations with my husband?

"I'm Princess Helen," the little blond girl next to Prince Evan pipes up.

Prince Evan is not a foul, ugly thing like I'd expected. He's rather handsome, with a chisled jaw, eyes the feverish color of glaciers, and dark blond hair.

"Hello, Princess Helen," I murmur.

My mother has turned around now, and is chatting with Prince Evan.

"What are your hobbies?" She asks. She is watching Evan intently, and I blush for his sake.

"I enjoy fishing," he says quietly. "Reading is all right, too, and swordplay."

I lift a forkful of crab to my mouth and take a bite, enjoying the salty flavor. I can tell Helen and Evan don't like it—they flinch slightly as they chew.

King Richard looks over to us. "SON," he bellows. "Why don't you give Princess Kiran her ring?"

I cringe as Evan reaches inside his tunic and pulls out a felt jewelry box.

"It's an engagement ring," he says to me softly. "It was supposed to be for Lena…" I realize suddenly that it wasn't only my life that was being thrown away in the process. I feel bad as he slips the ring onto my middle finger. It's cold and makes me shiver—although it's beautiful: a slim silver band encrusted with tiny emeralds.

"Who's Lena?" I whisper. Our heads are bent close together so that our parents don't see us talking.

He lowers his eyes and doesn't answer. I sit back down, my left hand feeling heavier than my right with the added weight of the ring.

After dinner, Evan and Helen politely kiss me on the cheek, then disembark to their bedchambers.

When I get back to mine I climb into bed. I take the ring off and study it—engraved on the inside were the words, _I love you, Lena_. I bit my lip and set it on my nightstand.

_How was I going to get out of this mess? _

_Fun facts? _

_Kiran means 'sunbeam'_

_Evan is a Welsh form of 'John'_

_Helen can mean 'torch' or 'moon'_

_Evren can mean 'the universe' or 'cosmos'_

_Niall is a form of 'Neil'_

_Richard can mean 'brave' and/or 'power'_

_And Cordelia has no known meaning_

_Do me a favor and R&R! Pleeease? _


	2. Escape

**Yeah, I know...I havent updated in a really long time...but here's chapter 2 and 3 =] Comment! **

Chapter Two

In the morning, a maid is shaking me roughly by the shoulders. When I sit up drowsily and glare at her, she draws back, shoulders hunched, watching me with wide eyes. "The queen ordered me to wake you. You're to have breakfast with Prince Evan and Princess Helen…" she trails off.

I roll my eyes and slump under my covers. I hear the pattering of her shoes as she leaves the room.

Then suddenly rougher, harder hands grab my shoulders. "Princess Kiran, you little twit, get up this instant!" Madam Purcell looms over me. "You're to have breakfast with your handsome prince. Shouldn't a princess be very happy?"

I purse my lips. "Excuse me, madam, but it seems that you are disturbing my sleep. I would like to be left alone now." I draw the covers over my head and roll over. Soon I hear her shoes walk away.

"KIRAN!" Mother is now by my bed, shouting her displeasure. "I did not have Prince Evan get engaged to you to be left alone all morning! Get dressed, wear his ring proudly, and get your fat head to breakfast!"

I nod sullenly. I had a few things I wanted to yell back at her: _How do you expect me to wear his ring proudly when it has another girl's name engraved in it? _But I don't. I rise from my bed and curtsy to Mother. Beside her, Madam Purcell smiles smugly at me. She knows that even I have to bow down to the wrath of Queen Evren.

"Good." Mother smiles. I marvel at how beautiful she is, even first thing in the morning. Her hair is impeccably combed, her lipstick not even smudged. "Wear that moss green gown of yours. It brings out your eyes."

I nod, forcing a smile. Mother smiles at me again and touches my hair. Then she is leaving, her gown floating behind her. "Don't forget to wear the ring!" She calls over her shoulder. I listen as their footsteps fade, before I walk to my closet. When I finally find the green dress, it looks forlorn and forgotten. I bit my lip. Looking at it, it suddenly reminded me of times when I didn't have any worries or husbands. And suddenly, this made me want to cry.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When I arrive in the dining room, Prince Evan and Princess Helen immediately jump to their feet to greet me. Princess Helen smiles at me adoringly while Prince Evan barely manages a smile. Suddenly, the ring on my finger feels more like a rock. Prince Evan pulls out a chair for me. I smile politely at him and sit down.

The table is now silent, so quiet that I am instantly aware that Princess Helen is the only one eating, her fork clanking noisily with the plate. I lift my glass to my lips and take a sip.

"I like the paintings hanging in the hallways," Prince Evan says quietly, an offer for conversation.

"Do you enjoy painting?" I ask, bringing my fork to my mouth. The eggs today are less salty than usual—Mother must have caught on to their dislike of salt.

"Yes, although I'm no good at it." Prince Evan's mouth twitches up at the corners, as if he's trying to smile but can't quite manage it.

"I'm sure you're very good at it," I say.

"I just said that I'm not," Prince Evan says. I expect him to look mad, but instead he smiles. "It's okay. I know I'm horrible at it."

"Oh," I say awkwardly. "Okay then."

His smile vanishes and he goes back to picking at his food. Princess Helen looks up at the gap in conversation. "Let's take a walk," she suggests.

Prince Evan folds his napkin neatly. Princess Helen jumps up and runs ahead, making Prince Evan and I walk next to each other. We keep a huge distance between our shoulders and occasionally he glances at me. When we're outside, he clears his throat. "Would you like to lead the way?" He asks.

I look at him sideways. "No, it's all right. I promise we wont get lost."

He nods and looks at the ground while we walk. I suddenly feel like I need to fill the space between us with conversation. I take a breath. "Do you miss home?"

For a moment, I think he isn't going to answer. But just when my cheeks start to flush, he says, "No."

"Why?" I ask more because I feel the silence will swallow us again if I don't, not necessarily because I want to know.

Prince Evan looks thoughtfully up at the blue, blue sky. "Not enough fresh air."

I laugh, but it comes out harsh and loud. "Just because of that? Not because you wanted to escape pressure? Not because you wanted more from your life?"

Prince Evan cracks another smile. "I like it here," he says simply. I want to tell him that it doesn't seem like it at all, but I keep quiet. This is the most conversation we've had.

"So do I," I agree. I pluck a flower bud from the next bush we pass.

And then suddenly, we relapse into silence. This time it feels more comfortable, even though from time to time Prince Evan looks at the ring.

From here, I see Princess Helen running to us from the path. Her blonde curls are streaming behind her and she looks excited. "The gypsies are here!" she says, clapping her hands together.

I furrow my brow. "Gypsies? Aren't they thieves?"

"They're vagabonds," Prince Evan explains. "They travel from country to country, earning their wages by performing shows."

"Let's go watch!" Princess Helen says, already running back up the path. Prince Evan jogs after her, easily keeping her in sight with his long legs. I sigh and start running.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The sights, the sounds, even the smells captured my attention. But what really made my pulse race was the huge red sign nailed to one of their carriages. New Recruits Wanted.

This was perfect, beyond perfect. I could join the gypsies'. I could finally escape, finally start over. And then Prince Evan could go back to Lena, and our worlds would be restored.

When we had to go, I was almost wistful. What if they left tomorrow? What if I lost my chance?

But Princess Helen was getting sleepy. Prince Evan held her hand and he came to tell me that they were going back. He added that I ought to go with him, for it wasn't proper for an adolescent girl to be alone after dark. I had sighed and trailed behind them.

Back at the palace, I bade them good night. Prince Evan had the room three doors down from mine; Princess Helen's was right across. They shut the door soundlessly. Once I was sure everyone else in the castle was asleep, I crawled out of bed. I grabbed my clean white sheets and laid them flat on the ground. I started folding up the simplest gowns I had, in the less conspicuous colors—browns, navy blues, pale greens. In total, I had ten. Then I added stockings, my hair bands and clips, even my jewelry box. I figured that I could sell them for money. I slipped out of my nightgown and into one of the maid uniforms. I had taken it from the blonde maid in the kitchen who looked to be my size. Then I comb my long hair into a simple bun.

I hoist my makeshift pack on to one shoulder before opening the door cautiously. It was dead silent, and would be pitch black if it weren't for the moonbeams shining in, overlapping in some places and leaving some areas completely shrouded in shadow.

I took a deep breath. I had Prince Evan's engagement ring in my pocket, a couple of gold coins in my other one. I could finally leave this life I didn't want, finally leave Mother. I was sure this was the right thing to do.

I was now in front of the staircase. I was about to set a foot on the first stair when I heard it—"What are you doing?" It was whispered, but it seemed like a shout.

I gasp, a strangled sound, and squeeze my eyes shut.

"It's okay," the voice said softly. The figure stepped out of the shadows. My jaw dropped. Prince Evan? Surely he wouldn't drag me back?

"I was hungry…So I was just going to get some food," I say hastily. "Would you like anything?"

"I'm not stupid," he says firmly. "Where are you going?"

"The gypsies' camp," I whisper, surrendering. "They're looking for new recruits."

"Don't worry," Prince Evan says. "I'm not here to stop you."

"Well—"

"But I do have one condition," he whispers. I knew this was too good to be true.

"What is it?" I demand.

"I'm coming with you." I see him smile in the thin moonlight. "Wait for me."

I purse my lips. "Hurry."

He turns around and disappears into his room. He's surprisingly quick, coming out in less than five minutes.

Prince Evan looks at me warily. While I know this is in no way a friendship, it feels like we're finally making some progress.


	3. On The Road

Chapter Three

The second I knock on the warehouse where the gypsies have sleeping quarters, I hear frenzied motion. There are thumps on the walls as people stir. The door clicks as it unlatches and it swings open to reveal several men holding makeshift weapons, children with wide eyes, and mothers who are trying to hide the children behind them.

The weapons lower when the men realize it's only Prince Evan and I. Although he certainly looked strong enough to throw a few punches, somehow he didn't seem the type. And I obviously didn't pose a threat, with my awkward, thin limbs and fragile appearance.

We glance at each other. Prince Evan clears his throat. "We saw your new recruits wanted sign," he explains.

"Ah, good." A man steps forward. He waves his hands to the other men and they drop their weapons on the ground. The women instantly go back to bed, the children still watching in excitement. Apparently, he is the leader of the gypsies.

He gestures for us to follow him and leads us a ways away, near the forest. "I am Havis, and this is my camp." Havis smiles at us. "And you two are?"

"I'm Evan and this is Kiran." Prince Evan looks confident that the gypsies wont know that we are royalty. His way of thinking does make sense. They're nomads, travelers. They couldn't possibly have the time to memorize each country's royal family.

"Are you two engaged?" Havis asks. "If you don't mind my asking. It is quite uncommon for a pair to join."

I don't dare look at Prince Evan. Heat blooms in my cheeks and I am suddenly very, very aware of his engagement ring in my pocket. "No," I say quickly, before Prince Evan has a chance to say anything. "Not at all."

Havis winks at Prince Evan. "Well, that is fortunate. There are many teenage boys here that would fight to get a pretty one like her. To the death, even." Prince Evan smiles uneasily back at him.

I cough. "Where do they sleep? The teenagers?"

"They sleep in the garage next door, and some bunk in the carriages." Havis waves vaguely to the left of the warehouse. "They range from fourteen to twenty-two."

"Where should we go?" Prince Evan asks. He kicks at a pile of rocks in the dirt.

"Feel free to sleep in a carriage." Havis looks at us apologetically. "I'm afraid you'll have to share one for the night."

"That's okay," I say at the same time Prince Evan says, "That's fine."

Havis grins at us and starts back up the path to the warehouse. "You two are quite the pair."

I wake up to see Prince Evan sitting up, sorting through his things. Sunbeams hit his profile exactly right. He was so, so beautiful. That floppy hair, those serious eyes, his lean, slim body.

He looks up, sees me, and smiles. "You're up," he says.

I let myself smile back at him and crawl over. "What are you doing?"

"Just making sure I haven't forgotten anything."

I sigh. "This is really going to be a mess."

"That reminds me." Prince Evan glances up at me, folding a shirt with one hand and running his other hand through his hair. "No more 'prince' or 'princess.' From now on, it's just Evan and just Kiran."

I nod, wondering if he thought I was stupid. Then I fumbled inside my pocket. "That reminds me, too," I say, holding out the felt box. I opened it, looking at the ring one last time. "This is yours."

"Keep it," Evan says. His eyes are so sad when he looks at it. "It's yours now."

"Let me rephrase that." I shut the box and hold it out to him. "It's Lena's."

Evan turns away, tying up his bag. "It's yours."

"It has another girl's name in it!"

Evan looks at me. I wonder for a second if he'll slap me. But instead, the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. "It was once Lena's, when I used to think about her. But I don't now, and it's yours."

"I wont take it," I snap. "And that's final." I throw the box into his lap and jump out of the carriage. I am still in the maid uniform and I smooth down the skirt. Has the skirt always been this short? At least I was wearing the mandatory black tights.

I spot Havis talking to a woman near the stables. When I approach, he smiles at me and turns to the woman. "Rachella, this is Kiran, a new recruit. Kiran, this is Rachella, my wife."

"Good morning," I greet her, smiling my 'charming' smile, the one Madam Purcell and I worked on for two weeks. She smiles back at me.

"The teenagers are eating breakfast over there," Havis says. He points in the direction of the picnic tables, where I see several turkeys and eggs laid out, surrounded by at least fifteen teens. "Go on and eat. Bring your…friend."

I nod. "Thank you."

Havis laughs. "No need to thank people. We're all family now." He turns back and starts talking to Rachella again. I brace myself and head for the tables.

As I walk nearer, no one notices. More confident now, I take a plate, load it with three eggs, a turkey leg, and bring the saltshaker with me to an empty table. I shake the salt on plentifully then take a bite. Just the way I like them.

"New girl," a voice says from across from me. I look up, annoyed. I was eating breakfast. Didn't these commoners have any sense of _manners_? "I guess you're from around here."

The boy sitting across from me is sixteen, maybe seventeen. His black hair is wavy and messy, in a way that looks accidental yet totally deliberate. His eyes are wide and hazel, like many leaves overlapping to make a combined color. His cheekbones are prominent, and his chin is absolutely perfect. I roll my eyes. I'm used to guys like him. Guys who know they're beautiful and flaunt it. Guys who are self-centered jerks.

I ignore him and turn back to my meal.

"Hello?" He has the nerve to touch me. He taps my arm first. "New girl," he teases, flicking my nose.

"Quit it," I snap, slapping his hand away.

"Touchy, touchy." Looking amused, he picks up my turkey leg and takes a big bite. "Ryne Anderson."

"Isn't that the name of that amazingly stupid boy who not only invades other people's personal space but also steals their food?" I glare at him and take another bite of my egg.

"You're fast." Ryne grins.

"And how are you so sure that I'm new?" I ask. "Maybe I've been here forever."

"I remember all the pretty girls." He smirks.

"I guess I'm not pretty enough then," I retort.

Ryne looks at me thoughtfully. "Not only are you pretty, but you have a quick brain and a sharp mouth. Nope, I definitely would've remembered you." He looks down at my body. "Although you are pretty lacking in the shape department."

I feel myself flush. "I'd watch what you say around females."

Ryne shrugs. "I'm finished making fun of you."

"You were making fun of me? Really?" I roll my eyes. "Personally, I thought we were having a mature conversation about intellect."

"Kiran?" Evan's voice sounds from behind me. "You okay?"

I turn around. "Yeah. I'm just eating my breakfast."

He smiles at me. "I'll get some and I'll eat with you," he offers. I nod.

Ryne, across from me, watches our exchange with raised eyebrows. When Evan leaves, Ryne says, "That the guy you came here with?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Just that you two make a very cute couple." Ryne smiles sweetly at me and makes a heart with his hands.

"Oh, shut up. We don't even know each other."

"No? He seemed to know your name."

"I know your name and we don't know each other."

Ryne smirks. "I'd say we're friends, _Kiran_."

Evan suddenly returns, plopping his plate down next to Ryne's. "Making friends already?" Evan asks, glancing at Ryne.

I snort while Ryne tries to cover his laugh with a cough. Soon Evan and Ryne are talking about fishing of all things, while I pick at my food. I'm wondering if coming to the gypsies' camp was a good idea after all.


End file.
